Spider-Man Imagines I

Keep Her Safe | Flash Thompson [TR]

Flash sat, hunched over, hands shaking. Sweat formed at his hairline and under his nose. With a mix of tears and snot running down his cheeks and chin, he was slowly falling apart. His arms trembled as he dragged his fingers through his curls, his phone buzzing again and again as you, undoubtedly, messaged him every few seconds.

He admitted that he could have handled leaving better. It was the middle of your mother's birthday party, and you were at her favorite restaurant with most of your close family. He was sitting across from you, eating dinner, your bubbly laugh filling the dining area. Over plates of overpriced cheesecake, he fell impossibly harder for you, his girlfriend of three perfect years, and he thought - screw waiting until after graduation. I should propose soon.

And then, just like he wasn't allowed to have a thought so perfect, he felt it. He was on the brink of losing it again.

He wasn't sure when it started or why he was suddenly part monster, but he was. And the thought of him transforming into a giant monster with sharp teeth and a dripping tongue and long, curled claws right in front of you, his girlfriend, his best friend, the love of his life, was so sickening that he stood up from the table, his chair knocked out from underneath him.

You jumped, your smile vanishing. "Flash," you said, "are you okay?"

He felt all the eyes on him. Every guest, every member of your family at the restaurant was gaping at him. He gulped and shook his head, tears filling his eyes.

"I can't do this," he whispered. "I can't-" He turned around and fled, tripping over his own feet, causing some people to gasp as he knocked over chairs and even shattered a glass.

He managed to control himself until he was home, but after several minutes alone in his room, he was curled up in a ball on his floor, belongings shredded. His father would assume he had a tantrum of some kind and get angry; and Flash would struggle to control himself.

When his hands stopped shaking enough, he grabbed his cellphone and pulled up your messages.

Flash, what was that?

Are you okay?

Please call me!

Babe I'm really worried about you.

Did you go home?

Text me when you get there so I know you're safe.

I'm so worried about you. Please just answer me.

This isn't the first time it's happened and I know you've been acting weird lately.

Please. I'm so so so worried...

My dad is dropping me off at your house to talk. If you don't answer the door, I'm calling the cops.

He turned his screen off. He wanted to text you a calm reply, an easy lie that was something like, sorry, I think it was a stomach bug. But you were right; this had been going on for weeks and he was running out of excuses.

He was running out of time.

He was a growing danger and lost control often, especially when his father was home. Plus, with the stress on his shoulders for senior year, he was a wild card.